


On the Edge

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Peril, Reunions, episode 196 spoilers, minor spiders, much more plotty than my recent follow ups, rating is for peril and everyone being afraid, surprisingly there's no swears in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29718129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 196!!!Martin is stuck in a web, regretting his life choices. Jon and Basira arrive at Hill Top Road.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 111





	On the Edge

Martin has regretted a lot of decisions in his life, but at the moment he can't think of a single one that he regrets more than trusting Annabelle Cane.

It's not that he expected this meeting to go  _ well, _ per say. If he'd written down a list of ways he thought it might end, 'mortal peril' would have been pretty high on it. But whatever mortal perils he could have predicted pale in comparison to being stuck on a giant spiderweb, suspended above a bottomless chasm that apparently leads to another dimension.

This is pretty bad.

He's on his knees in the web, hands pinned down next to him, sticky strands criss-crossing over his shoulders and lap to hold him in place. The whole thing sways slightly in the winds that buffet over this yawning expanse, a gentle, dizzying movement that leaves his head spinning. Annabelle stands only a few meters away, swaying with the web, somehow maintaining her balance perfectly without any supports to hold her in place.

He's lucky, he supposes, that she did tie him down. While he'd much prefer to be able to move freely, he can't deny that he would probably fall if he weren't restrained.

From where he sits Martin can see the edge of the chasm, much too far away for comfort. Beyond that is the road - or was the road, before Annabelle broke the camera - and beyond  _ that, _ somewhere, is Jon.

He knows Annabelle was mocking him, before, but he can't help hoping just a little bit that Jon really does come riding to his rescue like some white-steeded knight of yore.

Jon will try, there's no doubt about that. He just hopes the rescue  _ works. _

If this goes south, if Annabelle's plan mires them in even worse danger than they already were or somehow hurts Jon, Martin will never forgive himself. He went with her hoping that he could  _ fix _ things, and he dreads the thought that his only part in her plan may be as bait for Jon.

He tries to reassure himself with the thought that it can't be all bad. Annabelle expects him and Jon to agree to her plan once they've heard it, so it must have some redeeming qualities. Unless, of course, she just plans to blackmail Jon into doing what she orders by threatening to drop Martin into the abyss if he disobeys.

He makes the mistake of glancing down at the endless fall below him, and has to close his eyes against the nauseating fear that rises in him at the sight. It's worse, even, than the arching cliffs of the Vast that he and Jon had traversed on their way to London. At least he'd known what lay at the bottom of those.

A spider scuttles over his arm and he flinches, then gasps as the movement pulls a sickening lurch from the web he sits on, threatening to overturn him into the abyss. Annabelle turns around with a single raised eyebrow, a slight smile playing around her lips at the sight of his fear. He snarls back at her, teeth clenched, and she laughs and turns away.

He has decided that he does not like spiders anymore. He's been trying to hold onto his affection for them for a long time, telling himself that once the world was back to normal and he could trust that the arachnids he saw weren't the servants of an evil fear god, he would be able to admire how important they are to the ecosystem again, but he can't fool himself any longer. He hates them, and will never be able to look at one without giving a shudder of revulsion.

Something about being told that he was once the perfect candidate to be hollowed out and puppeted around by a thousand tiny spiders has that kind of effect.

He had made a joke about that once, hadn't he? Ages ago, at this point. Sat in front of a tape recorder, trying to make his voice deeper, mimicking Jon's stuffy accent.  _ Good lord, is Martin becoming some sort of spider person? _

If he'd known then how accurate he nearly was, he doesn't think he'd have been so flippant about it.

But Annabelle isn't going to do that anymore. She needs Jon to listen to her for her plan to work, and Jon certainly will  _ not  _ listen if she hurts Martin before he gets here. He feels more than a little smug satisfaction at the fact that their love has proved to be such a wrench in her plans that she's now left with no option but to tell them the truth about what she wants, and hope they agree to it.

Whatever choice she presents them with, he and Jon will make it together. A real choice, the kind he's been hoping for, not born out of shame or fear. He'd been impulsive, going with Annabelle and leaving Jon at the Panopticon, but he will not make that mistake again. This choice will be deliberate, and considered, and no matter what the outcome is, he refuses to regret making it.

A crack of thunder sounds overhead, and wind swirls around the web where he is trapped, shaking him once again in his restraints.

He really, really hopes Jon gets here soon.

~~~~~

The camera's protective bubble collapses, and the influence of the Eye rushes back in.

Jon stumbles with it, the sudden surge of power like a shot of adrenaline making his legs go shaky; then, as soon as he has his feet under him, he is off like a shot, sprinting down the patch of land formerly known as Hill Top Road.

The street is gone. The houses are gone. All that is left is the hill, rising in front of him and obscuring the space behind it, and the place where the Spider's house once lay.

"Jon!" Basira shouts from behind him. He does not need to look to know she is hot on his heels, catching up quickly after the moment of disorientation in which he had left her behind. "What's happening?"

"I don't know!" he shouts back, the words coming strained through clenched teeth. The tangled, stretching abyss of webs has returned now that the camera is gone, and even though he can  _ see  _ their threads he can no more comprehend what is happening within those threads than he can fly.

It does not matter. Whatever it is, Martin is there, and Jon  _ needs  _ to get to him.

It takes far, far too long to crest the hill. Far longer than it would have had this still been a normal Oxford street. On the other side...

On the other side, there is the Web.

It is  _ huge. _ Far too large to comprehend with a single glance. It stretches over an enormous gash in the ground, a jagged crack cutting through the earth and stretching off into the distance, dropping off at the edges to unknown and unknowable depths. It pulls at him when he tries to see inside, drawing his mind forward and down, following those webs out and away from... everything.

"What  _ is  _ that?" Basira asks, coming to a stop at his side and frowning at the wound in the earth.

"It's the Web," Jon says, voice faint, and while he knows it's not a good explanation he cannot think of a better one.

And then he sees Martin.

He is stuck in the webs, pinned on his knees perilously far from the edge, and even from this distance Jon can see the tense and frightened expression on his face.

_ "Martin!" _ he shouts, and then he's off again, sprinting toward the gaping hole in the ground, no thought in his mind but the need to get Martin out of there.

"Jon?" Martin says, and then, "Jon! I'm- I'm okay, Jon, she didn't hurt me!"

Jon skids to a halt at the edge of the chasm, looking around frantically for a way across to where Martin is bound, and Martin's eyes widen.

"Stay back!" he says, voice shrill with fear. "Please just- just  _ stay back, _ Jon, I don't know how stable this web is and I don't want you to fall."

Jon ignores him, and is about to step out onto a strand of web that looks strong enough to support his weight when a hand seizes him by the elbow.

"Slow down!" Basira hisses, and pulls him back a step. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"Martin-" he begins, and she shakes him.

"Is fine," she finishes, and then raises her voice. "Martin, where's Annabelle Cane? What happened here?"

"How do we get you  _ out?" _ Jon interjects, and Basira gives a quiet sigh.

"I- I don't know," Martin says, looking around in confusion. "She was here just a minute ago-"

"And now I'm here," a voice says, and Annabelle steps into view around the edge of the chasm, walking delicately across the strands of web as she approaches. "Forgive the dramatic entrance, I wasn't expecting you here  _ quite  _ so soon. Or in such  _ fascinating  _ company." She directs a calculating look at Basira, but shows no sign of either annoyance or satisfaction.

"What do you-" Basira begins, and is drowned out by Jon's snarl.

_ "Let. Martin. Go." _

Annabelle chuckles. "He is not my prisoner, Archivist. I'm simply helping him avoid a... tragic accident. It's a long way down, after all."

Jon lunges toward her. Basira pulls him back.

"For god's  _ sake, _ Jon," she hisses. "That's not helping. What do you want?" The last is directed at Annabelle.

"Only to talk." She raises one eyebrow, cool and amused. "The Archivist and I have rather a lot to discuss."

"I have nothing to say to you," Jon spits. He's still frantic, energy buzzing under his skin. If Basira wasn't holding him back he'd be out on the webs by now, either to rescue Martin or to punch Annabelle. He's not sure which one is the more effective strategy, but he very much wants to try both.

"I think you'll be quite interested in what I have to say, actually," she says, a coy lilt to her voice. "Of course, we can wait until you've had time to calm down, if you want. I'm sure Martin doesn't mind staying where he is for a while longer, do you, Martin?"

Martin is too far away to see his eye roll, but Jon can hear it in his voice. "Don't listen to her, I'm  _ fine," _ he says, and Jon does not believe him.

Basira's grip on his elbow shifts. "Well?" she asks in a low voice. "He's your boyfriend. You make the call."

Jon swallows, and tries to think through his options rationally. It's hard to do, with the crack in the earth before him drawing his thoughts into its tangled web.

"You- you just want to talk?" he asks Annabelle, and tries to thread compulsion around his voice. It does not work; though he can feel the power of the Eye flowing through him, it is unfocused, fractured: muddled by the strings of web that surround her.

"Yes," she says, and he can only hope she is telling the truth. "Believe me, I would have preferred to handle this some other way, but it seems this is the only option left available."

Jon shoots a quick glance at Martin. He meets Jon's eyes and gives a single, affirming nod. Basira squeezes his elbow.

"Okay," he says, trying to disguise how much his voice is shaking. "Okay. Let Martin go, and then we can talk."

Annabelle's smile slips, just for a second, before returning to place. "No, I don't think I'll be doing that."

"I'm not listening to a word you say until he's back on solid ground."

She stares at him for one long, silent moment, seeming to weigh the benefits of agreeing. Then she shrugs, and turns away to cross the webs toward Martin.

"Fine, then," she says. "If you insist."

When she reaches Martin, she brushes her hand across his shoulders. At her touch the webs, which had been clinging to him with an inescapable strength, loosen and begin to fall away.

"If you were going to let me go anyway you didn't have to tie me up in the first place," he grouses, as Annabelle helps him to his feet.

She smiles. "Perhaps I just thought it would be more fun this way."

_ "Perhaps," _ Martin snarks, and her smile widens just a little.

Annabelle walks Martin back to the edge of the chasm, their postures on odd mimicry of Jon and Basira with her hand on his elbow to help him keep his balance. He stumbles only once, and Jon heart lurches in his chest as he struggles to regain his footing, poised over that deadly precipice.

Basira pulls Jon back a step as they near the edge, keeping a distance between themselves and Annabelle; and Annabelle seems to have the same idea, pausing a few steps out from the edge of the chasm. She places a hand on Martin's back before he has a chance to ask why they've stopped, and  _ shoves. _

Everyone moves.

Martin, stumbling forward the last few steps off the web, falls to his knees once he reaches solid ground, catching himself on his hands and gasping for breath. Annabelle moves backward, putting more distance between herself and the others, seeming to trust them as little as they trust her. Basira follows, striding to the edge of the chasm and placing herself between Martin and Annabelle, defensively. And Jon rushes to Martin, as soon as Basira lets him go.

He falls to his knees on the ground beside him, sweeping him into a hug, pulling Martin just a little bit farther from the edge with the motion. "Thank god," he says. "Thank god,  _ Martin." _

"I'm sorry," Martin says. He's shaking, showing his fear now that he's no longer in imminent danger. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have trusted her, I shouldn't have gone with her-"

Jon is... not pleased, to learn that Martin left of his own free will. It's something he would very much like to talk about, when they have time. For now, though, he just pulls Martin closer and shakes his head. "No,  _ I'm  _ sorry," he says. "I shouldn't have left you alone, I should have stayed to talk about it, we could have faced her together."

Martin lets out a breath, a huff of frustrated air. "She wouldn't have shown up, she  _ wanted  _ to find me alone."

"Of course she did," Jon sighs. "All the more reason I shouldn't have stormed off."

"No, Jon..." Martin says softly, and then there are gentle fingertips on Jon's jaw, drawing him into a soft kiss. "I don't blame you, I should have been there when you came back, I just..." he trails off, and shakes his head. "I don't think this is really a good time to talk about it."

"You think?" Basira says, and Jon is abruptly pulled back into the real world, out of the comforting little bubble that is the circle of Martin's arms around him. Basira and Annabelle are still facing off across the edge of the chasm, watching each other with wary eyes.

Jon feels himself flush. "Sorry," he mutters to their unintentional audience, and scrambles to his feet, pulling Martin up behind him.

"I love you," Martin whispers, as he rises, keeping the words low enough for them and them alone, and Jon squeezes his hand.

"I love you too," he murmurs back, and then turns to face Annabelle. Standing there, Martin's hand in his own, with Basira poised strong and confident at his side, he feels much more ready to face whatever's waiting for them then he did before.

"Alright, Annabelle," he says, and she gives him another of those slow, knowing smiles. "Let's talk."


End file.
